On a Night Out
by electrakitty74
Summary: It was a night out they were going to remember for a long time. Written for speedrent, prompt bar. Probably slightly AU 'cause I think it takes place sometime before La Vie Boheme, not that it really matters. Warnings: involves drunk!Angel.


"Shit, Ang, how many have you had?" Collins asks as the cute waiter in the tight leather pants brings yet another beer.

"One . . . two . . . thre . . . four . . ." Angel tries several times to count on her fingers, but keeps forgetting what comes after four. After her fourth or fifth try, Collins reaches over, takes the beer from her and takes a swig.

"No more. You are officially cut off."

"But you've had just s'many as I've." Angel slurs.

"I'm twice your size, babe. And you have no tolerance." Angel grins.

"I know. M'such a lightweight." She leans back and nearly falls off her chair. Collins catches her before she falls and sets her right again.

"Thanks, honey." Angel leans over and tries to kiss him, but almost falls off again. "Whoops."

"We should've cut her off before the last one," Mark says. "She's gonna be sick."

"No'm not. M'never sick."

"Riiiiight . . . Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when we went out dancing? You 'weren't sick' all over that cute guy with the ponytail."

"That." Angel declares. "W's different. That w's tequila. Tequila's a whole diff'rent ballgame."

"Ok babe. Whatever you say."

"Y'two're boring. M'gonna go find some cute boys to flirt with." Angel stumbles off in the direction of the tables against the wall. Collins rolls his eyes, picks up his beer and looks at Mark.   
"I don't know her." Collins tells the younger man with a grin. Mark laughs. Collins gives Mark's shoulder an apologetic squeeze, and heads after Angel.

Mark sits alone, watching Angel work the room for a few minutes, wishing he had thought to bring his camera. Actually, he had tried, but Roger forbade it, threatening to drop if off the fire escape unless it stayed in his room, under the bed. Involuntarily, he hisses in a breath as Angel stumbles over someone's coat sleeve. Luckily, Collins is right there, catching her before she kills herself. Angel leans hard on Collins, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek gratefully.

"This place sucks!" Maureen declares loudly, startling Mark. He hadn't heard them come back.  
"I like it here." Joanne tells her, looking defiantly into her eyes.

"There aren't nearly enough girls here. It's just a bunch of 'mos." Maureen complains as she flops into the chair Collins so recently vacated.

"That's what I like about it." Joanne replies pointedly, sitting down across from her. Maureen breaks eye contact, pretending to scan the crowd for a likely girl, and Joanne turns to Mark.   
"Are you having a good time, Mark?"

"Yeah. I was just wishing I'd brought my camera. Look at them." He points at Collins and Angel. She's telling some elaborate story to a guy in a t-shirt which says "I (heart) MEN". The "n" in MEN is crossed out with a red "x." Collins has an arm around her waist, all but holding her up as she gestures wildly.

"Here come Mimi and Roger!" Maureen exclaims. "Someone get a hose!" Mimi and Roger do appear to be attached at the lips, kissing even as they walk back to the table. Their kiss breaks as they get closer. Roger sits in the seat Angel had been in, next to Mark, and Mimi sits on his lap.

"What're you guys looking at?" Mimi asks.

"Angel." Mark replies. "She's smashed."

"Oh my God, she so is. I'm gonna take her back to the dance floor!"

"Good luck," Roger replies. "I don't think she can dance like that."

"Angel has never been so drunk she can't dance. I've seen her so drunk she can't walk, but dance? Never. I'm going."   
"Seeya babe, have fun." Roger kisses her again and she jumps up and skips over to Angel's other side. They watch as she releases Angel from Collins' grip, takes her hand, and leads her back to the dance floor. Much to Mark's surprise, Mimi is right. Angel can dance drunk. Collins returns to the table, still nursing Angel's beer, and all five watch Angel and Mimi on the dance floor for awhile. A really hot black guy with no shirt has come up and is dancing with Angel. Collins bristles a bit, but Mark holds him back.

"It's ok, man. Mimi's got her." Mimi dances in between them, pushing Angel away a little as she flirts with the hot guy. Now it's Roger's turn to sit up and pay attention, but the guy clearly has no interest in Mimi and soon backs off. Mimi takes Angel's hands and leads her back to their friends. When they are finally within earshot of the table, Angel is still fussing at Mimi for scaring the guy off. Dancing seems to have sobered her up a little. She is now at least able to walk a fairly straight line without Mimi's help. Mimi perches back on Roger's lap and Angel comes up behind Collins and puts her arms around his waist. He turns and kisses her.

"You're drenched. Wanna sit?"

"Nope, m'great right where I am." She takes his beer and drinks the last swallow. "Ugh, s'warm."

"Baby, we should get you home."  
"Why?"  
"Why? You're still drunk."

"So? M'out, m'young, and I'm having a fabulous time, Professor Collins. You're such a party pooper. Oooh, I love this song!" Angel marshals all of her considerable coordination and leaps onto the table to dance. She reaches down for Collins' hand and pulls him up too. Awkwardly, he joins her, dancing clumsily until she pulls him closer. His body starts to respond automatically as her smell and body block coherent thought and he starts to dance from somewhere other than his head. Dimly, as if from far away, he can hear the shouts and catcalls from his friends and the twenty or so other people who have gathered around to watch. Angel pulls him even closer; they're looking deeply into each other's eyes. Neither notice that the crowd's gone silent or that Mimi and Roger are pulling on their hands, their clothes, anything they can get hold of until . . .

-----

"Man, I can't believe you two got us kicked out of there!" Mark's the only one who seems pissed. Mimi and Roger, Maureen, and even Joanne are laughing about the whole situation. Collins and Angel, as drunk as she is, are still so wrapped up in one another that they hardly hear Mark's scolding or the others' laughter. It's the first time Collins, the master planner, the control freak anarchist, has allowed himself to be totally spontaneous, and he's finding that he likes it.


End file.
